


And I See The Void.

by Karveth



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Drug Use, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Knifeplay, Masochism, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Sadism, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-09-06 19:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20296408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karveth/pseuds/Karveth
Summary: Reader has a terribly questionable taste in men, but allows herself to stumble into the void that is Trevor Philips.Regrettable? Probably. For now though, just enjoy being consumed.





	1. Yellow Jack

The warm air whipped at your face as you coasted through Sandy Shores, motorbike engine purring between your thighs. It had been a rough day, having had to deal with dumb-ass bikers for the majority of it, but it was money right? Dumb-ass bikers always want dumb-ass tattoos and that's how you paid your bills. Not exactly what you had envisioned for yourself before moving out to Los Santos, but it allowed you certain freedoms. You were just sick of hardly ever having the chance to meet someone you were genuinely interested in - someone that you wanted to engage with.

Noting your mind had drifted, you snapped back to the open road, luminous sign of the Yellow Jack Inn growing ever closer. The thought of a cold beer had been tormenting you all afternoon and it was so close you could almost taste it. As you turned into the parking lot, you cut the engine, wheeling your bike into a vacant bay and setting down the kick stand. Swinging your leg over and off your faithful steed, you ran your hands down your thighs which were aching slightly. 

Stood outside the Yellow Jack, your face is illuminated by the various coloured neons - a stark contrast with the deep blue void of the desert night. You reach within your leather jacket, fingers fumbling within the lining in search of your cigarette carton. Grasping at it you bring it before you, flipping open the little box of calm, drawing in a steady breath in anticipation. You drew out a cigarette and allow it to rest gently between your lips, while rummaging through your various pockets for - -

"Need a light cupcake?" 

Before you even have chance to assess the origin of this borderline predatory growl, a lighter is held out in offering before your face. Your eyes trail up the large tattooed fingers and scabbed hand, travelling up the muscular arm and onto broad shoulders, before finally reaching the stranger's face. He's wearing a lopsided grin which contrasts harshly against thick eyebrows knitted into a scowl. Scratch borderline predatory; this guy is straight up looking at your like you're his next meal. Yet despite that, his deep brown eyes, wild thinning hair and the various small but deep scars that adorn his face intrigue you. You always were a glutton for the questionably sane and reckless. You held your palm outstretched.

"Sure, thanks," trying to sound as disinterested as possible. 

Although your intrigue has been ignited, you didn't want to let him think as such. You had made that mistake before, many lifetimes over, and had since attempted to keep your walls up to some extent. That being said, a part of you wanted to engage in seducing and being seduced. 

"So what's a gorgeous piece of ass like you doing in a shithole like this?", he grins as you spark your cigarette.

You can feel the corners of your mouth twist to mimic him.

"Just blowing off some steam after a hard day's work." 

You take a long drag and exhale, releasing the smoke swirling into the night air, watching as the stranger does the same.

"Well seeing as you're here, how 'bout I buy you a drink?", he says with a gravelly voice, as you note he has a slight Canadian accent. 

He gives off a wild vibe and you're entertaining the idea of accepting the man's offer before he leans into the wall close to you, bracing himself on it with one arm as he dips his head down a little towards your face, awaiting your response with that smile. It's just a drink, you tell yourself, willfully ignoring the faint flips your stomach is doing as he's close enough to have breached what would regularly be your comfort zone. You run a hand over your scalp and down your neck as you smile up at him.

"But you haven't even told me your name yet."

"I'm Trevor, sweetness, but you can call me T. Now what I gotta do to get ya to let me buy you a drink?". 

It's thrown you a little that he hasn't asked your name but you suppose it's unimportant. You're quite happy to accept his various pet names and besides, you're stalling on a reply. You lean one shoulder on the wall in mirror to his confidence and respond.

"Answer me this; are you always this friendly?" you tease.

His expression falters and he stalls, only by a split second, but you catch it. 

"Only to people I like the look of. You seem like you can handle yourself and I like that in a woman. Someone that bites back." He raises one eyebrow as his eyes lock on to yours with a certain fierceness, before asking, "I'm right aren't I? You've got that fire in you, like a wildcat. The kind that makes for iiiiinteresting company."

You take another drag, this time allowing the smoke to simply seep out of your parted lips as you inhale it deeply through your nostrils. Placing your hand on your hip as you angle your stance you probe further.

"And is that what you're offering? Interesting company?"

"Sure is sugar." he quips back, "Now how about that drink?" 

He circles around you, heading towards the battered door of the inn. It's certainly been a while since you had interesting company so you nod. 

"Yeah, I'm game. Trevor..."

You allow his name to linger on your lips, purposefully indicating your curiosity as to where the night might lead. His eyebrows are still furrowed as he smiles, stepping into the dim glow of the Yellow Jack while holding the door for you. As you keep pace with him, you both approach the bartender, before she snaps her head towards him and locks on with an irritated glare. 

She opens her mouth to bark, "Get the fuck out Trevor, you're still banned!"

You turn slightly, peering up at him as he defends his position.

"Whoa, whoa, come on now. Can't a guy and his lovely lady friend crack a couple of beers after a long day?"

You run the various scenarios through your mind as you try to imagine why he may have been barred, but the Landlady answers your internal question for you - 

"You broke my husband's teeth, you piece of shit! I outta call the cops on you!"

Trevor is becoming all the more animated as the tension grows, seemingly excited by the whole thing, while also attempting to wear a softer smile feigning his innocence. 

"Yeah but as I recall, you got yourself a new husband since then. I just want two of your finest Pißwasswers for me and my lady, and we'll go skulk quietly in the back, well out of your way. Scout's honor, I swear." He holds up his fingers in the scout salute mockingly, forcing his best attempt at smiling sweetly.

He looks ridiculous. You can't help but laugh into your hand - a juxtaposition of politeness from such a savage looking man who apparently smashed another man's mouth in tickles you, the weird fucking sadist that you are. 

The Landlady looks decidedly less impressed, but crossing her arms in defeat she caves.

"That's not the point, asshole! And fine, but if I get a whiff of trouble from either of ya, you're both banned."

Trevor smiles and offers up a crumpled twenty bill, before taking the two iced bottles and some change from her, then heads towards a small booth in the back of the bar. You say thanks and follow him, the confrontation having energised you. It's like electricity under your skin. You needed this. It makes you feel alive. As you shuffle into the booth, Trevor hands over your beer. 

"Cheers, asshole", you snigger. 

"See I knew there was something about you baby," he winks, "I love when a pretty girl talks dirty." 

You're acutely aware the effect his demeanour is having on you and take a swig of beer to quell the growing feeling of falling into the abyss. Such a sucker for punishment. He starts up again, grin ever present.

"So you said you work out here, but how come I've never seen you around? Sandy Shores ain't exactly a big place." 

You shrug off your leather jacket and stuff it into the corner, exposing your tattoos, and catch him eyeing them up with interest. 

"Oh I mainly do private work, you know just travelling to where the pay is", you explain. 

He nods in acknowledgement, "Yeah I get that, I sorta do the same. You hole up round here though when you're not working?"

"Yeah I've got a trailer near by. Living that good life, you know?" you chuckle. He seems fixated on you as you elaborate,"I came over to the States from England about a year ago. Been out here trying to make a name for myself as a tattoo artist but it's hard to get set up in a shop. That's why I travel around to wherever the clients are."

He's no longer grinning like an idiot, but seems genuinely interested in drinking in your words, as though he's eager for any tidbit of information he can glean from you.

"Fuckin' A! That's respectable", he says happily as he raises his bottle and drinks sloppily. 

Some of his beer trickles down his chin, but he's quick to wipe it away with the back of his hand. It's your turn to grin at him this time. 

You laugh, "And what about you? You look like you're more than capable of handling a shitstorm. What's the deal?"

Just like that the menacing predator-stalking-its-prey look is back. 

"I'm a serious business man of many talents," he growls, seeming genuinely proud of this declaration. "But hey, I'm pretty sure there's plenty we could be talking about other than business. Like that dirty mouth of yours..."

You can't help the blush that slowly creeps across your face. It's something that's always annoyed you, betraying you in your moments of weakness and it unfortunately doesn't go unnoticed by Trevor. In fact, the way his face lights up and his eyes glint dangerously, you were almost certain he was enthralled by the effect he was having on you. One hand still on his beer, he slides the other under the table. Slowly his large hands make contact with your knee, then start to creep upwards before resting atop your thigh. He squeezes firmly, then rubbing softly before confessing, "Normally darlin' I'd have tried to fuck your brains out before we even stepped foot in here, right there in the parking lot, but you're made of something different. Not like most the pricks round here. For starters, you didn't tell me to get fucked the moment I opened my mouth," he chuckled to himself. 

Thinking of how best to phrase your answer, you draw a cigarette and light it, then take a swig of beer. Your eyes sweep over him, drinking him in; grubby white t-shirt, strong jawline accented by dark sand-paper stubble, an enticing shit-eating grin that won't quit. You don't have a type per se, other than guys who look like they can do some damage. Somewhere in your messed up little head, the dangerous looking ones were deemed the prize. You relax your mouth into the sexiest smile you can muster while motioning for him to lean in closer. Moving up to speak softly into his ear, you utter the words that from this moment onwards will stoke the fires of obsession in this wretch of a man. 

"Well, T, I have a soft spot for bastards like you."

His mouth hangs open slightly as he processes. You lean back in your seat, inhaling the last of your cigarette, hand moving towards the ashtray to stub it out - quick as anything, he grabs your hand and presses the embers of your cigarette into his arm, hissing through his teeth. Your eyes are wide, not knowing quite where your brain lands between being taken aback and aroused. Arousal wins out and takes over you, as you find yourself moving your leg between his thighs, threatening to press against his dick. His public display of masochism heats your core, to the point of feeling your pants growing slick with your juices. Roughly downing the rest of his beer, he snarls at you. 

"Finish your fucking drink, we're going outside for a smoke." 

You obey, the cold hitting the back of your throat, grabbing your jacket as he leads you out of the booth by your wrist roughly.

Stepping out into the lot he leads you around the corner, to a big beast of a truck and wastes no time pushing you up against the door. He looks almost angry but you don't back down, glaring at him, attempting to match his fury. Planting one hand on the truck next to your head, he runs the other from your hip to your ribs. Thumbing over your curves and gripping your side roughly he breathes raggedly, words spilling out almost threateningly. 

"You sure you know what you're saying little lady? You sure you know what you're getting yourself into?"

At the beginning of the night you had mused somewhat about keeping your walls up, yet here you are all but laid bare before a man you only just met. It was magnetic and it stirred something real within you. You didn't care right now about that nagging little self-preserving voice within you. Reaching up to slide your hand up and round his neck, while the other slid up his body you answered him. 

"I want you. I want you so bad right now, but I want to get to know you more."

A brief flash of panic showed across his face, even up against the truck in the dark, but he concealed it just as quickly as it had appeared. The hand on his truck moved to your neck as his thumb traced your jaw. He looked as though he was going to say something, but as he pulled your body closer he crashed his lips upon your own in frantic need instead. You just about melted in his hands. Moving a hand up the back of his neck and through his dark hair, grabbing and twisting your fingers elicitited a small grunt from him. In response he nipped at your bottom lip with pure lust, as your other hand snaked its way to grab his ass as you pulled his hips to your own, working the motion into a rhythm - the moans you both made cut through the otherwise silent lot and the prospect of being seen only fuelled your want so badly. Feeling him harden, you alter the angle of your hips, trying desperately to seek relief for your little bundle of nerves. Fever having fully overcome you, you use your grip on him to push him so his back is the against the truck. You run an open palm up the inside of his thigh, stopping just short of the tent in his jeans, while he forces his tongue into your eager mouth. You can't remember the last time you'd felt something like this and were fully revelling in the moment. Dragging your nails up his side and digging them in, wanting to mark him up provoked him to grab at your ass roughly, before pulling you away from his lips, apparently needing to breathe. Saddened at the loss of contact with his mouth, you became suddenly aware of how needy you were right now and snapped back to reality for a moment - a moment was all you needed to attend to the rational part of your brain. You wanted him, but you want to hold off on fucking. For now at least. He attempted to bring you back to his hungry kiss, but you pull your head away and place a hand on his chest. It was warm, almost burning to the touch and you could feel his heart thumping hard within his chest. Looking up into his eyes, he seemed genuinely disappointed, opening his mouth to speak but you cut him off. 

"T I want nothing more than to fuck like animals - " 

It was his turn to cut you short. 

"But you realised you've made a drunken mistake right?" he snapped.

You laughed at him while still enjoying your hands on his toned yet battle-scarred body. For an older guy he was in pretty good shape, but you were a little distracted by his petulance. 

"The fuck you take me for? I had a single fucking beer, I'm not drunk, you prick," you said while smiling up at him. "I just have work early in the morning, I need to get some sleep."

His expression softens slightly but is still notably wary. 

"If it's energy you need I've got some speed. Don't need sleep then, baby doll."

"As tempting an offer as that is, I take my work seriously. I have to have my head on straight. Tell you what, give me your number and I'll ring you when I get a day off?"

He still sounds sulky but he's smirking weakly.

"Sure, 'give me your number', never to be seen again right?" he makes air quotes with his fingers mockingly, "You're nothing but a little cock-teasing bitch."

This annoys you as you know your intentions to be true. The nights emotions are still surging through you as you snap. 

"Look dick head, if it'll make you feel better I'll let you give me a ride home, so long as you put my bike in the truck bed. That way you know where I live right?"

You scowl at him but your words seem to have calmed him a little. He releases his grip on you and stomps round to the back of the truck, opening the tailgate. Wheeling your bike over, he grabs the frame and with a grunt lays it on a stained tarp in the bed. He snaps the tailgate shut and reaches for your lower back, pulling you in again for a rough, demanding kiss. 

"Jump in", he growls against your neck. 

You oblige, heaving yourself up to the high seat. Rummaging around in your jacket pockets for a scrap of paper and a pen, but all you managed to find is a crumpled five dollar bill and an eyeliner pencil. Sighing, you know it'll have to do. You scribble your number and sign it with a kiss, before stuffing it in T's hand. 

"There you go, idiot." 

Smiling he asks, "So where am I driving?"

-

After setting your bike down in front of your trailer, he looks more relaxed. Perhaps stupidly on your part, seeing as you don't quite understand the extent to which this definitely rough and potentially dangerous man operates within the confines of sanity, the fact you had trusted him with your home address apparently settled him. He reached to grab at your ass again, holding you close as you savour the taste of each other. One hand on his chest again, you reach the other up to his jaw as you grab his face with need. 

"It's been fun, T. I'll hit you up when I'm free and we'll have to hang out ok?"

He grunts in agreement, "Sure, sugartits. Be more fun if we were banging right now, but I'll hold you to your word." 

His truck roars into life and tears down the road as you head inside, your head swimming with details of the night's chance encounter. It'll likely be a while before your brain quiets enough to actually sleep...


	2. At the Precipice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the edge of everything, you tumble down, losing yourself to Trevor. Even if you could climb back out from this hole of depravity, would you want to?
> 
> Pure smut. No apologies.
> 
> TW: heavy drug use & consensual physical abuse

As the early morning rays of sunlight rudely burst through the curtains and threatened your lucid dreaming, an abrupt buzz sounding from your phone against the bedside table finished the job. You groan, defeated, pulling yourself up against the headboard. Eyes still bleary, a foul mood begins to descend. Abruptly swiping at your phone to determine which asshole was going to be on your shitlist today, your eyes scan for a sender name. Unknown. You decide to leave whatever the hell this message was until after you had reluctantly dragged yourself from underneath the sheets and hauled your ass into the shower.

-

Sitting on the deck of your trailer, deep into your fourth cigarette and second coffee since waking, you finally gathered enough chemical fortitude to start the day. To say you were not a morning person was a huge understatement. Lazily pulling your iFruit from your pocket, you swipe at the screen and pull up the message from earlier.

"Hey baby doll we gonna pick up where we left off or what? - T "

Trevor. Fuck. He really revved your engine, but that didn't completely absolve him from having interrupted your sleep. Cursing him silently, your mind turned to warm echoes of your hands all over his sinewy body and to the growing hunger inside you to explore him further. Intrusive thoughts of marking and bruising his flesh draw an involuntary whimper from between your lips, violent delights having a special way of fuelling your desire. Fingers swiping and tapping, your fingers thrum a reply.

"Whenever's good for you T, I'm free for the next couple days. Bring your A-game x"

Knocking back the last dregs of coffee your hear the buzz of a reply. He's keen. Good.

"Sounds like an invitation to a marathon to me sugar. I'll bring some supplies. Your place 9pm?"

"Sure Trev, see you later on. You'd best be ready x"

Hitting send, your heart rate quickens considerably, anticipating all the disgusting things you hope to accomplish this coming evening.

-

It's 9:10pm and you're pacing the length of your trailer home, horny and waiting. Stopping by the bathroom mirror to fix your makeup one last time, the sound of tires kicking up dust in the driveway makes your ears prick up, sending the swarm of butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. A pink neon sign fixed on the wall above the couch is the only source of illumination in the otherwise inky living room, reminiscent of a dive bar. Just how you like it. Channel X hums from the stereo in the background, but your brain is buzzing so loud right now that it barely registers. Shuffling footsteps grow louder and then a series of short knocks on your front door announce his arrival. Shifting the catch, you take one last deep breath and pull open the door to see him there in all his glory; this brute of a man with a sick grin plastered across his face and a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Crisp khaki shirt and black dress trousers contrast against his otherwise vicious aesthetic, with what appear to be fresh cuts and bruises peppering his knuckles and along his jawline.

"Honey, I'm home!" he growls at you in jest, before grabbing you roughly and pushing up against the nearest wall, one meaty hand grabbing at your ass as the other caresses your face. He pulls your lower lip open with his thumb, before unceremoniously jamming his tongue into your mouth. His saliva mixing with yours, tastes of whiskey mixed with tobacco ensnaring your senses. You both become lost in the moment, tongues battling for dominance like a couple of writhing angry snakes. Breaking away to look him in the eyes, you're suddenly scooped up by your backside and he wraps your legs around his waist, holding you there with ease.

"It's good to see you again stranger," you breathe, as you gaze with heavy lids. 

He sets you down gently on the floor, one arm still clutching at you as he paws at your curves and smiles.

"And here I thought you weren't interested baby. Haven't heard from you in nearly a week, thought I was gonna have to come over here and kidnap you."

Flashing that wicked grin, he releases his hold, unhooking his bag and slinging it onto the couch. You seize the opportunity to swing the front door closed, shutting out any potential prying neighbours. Not that they won't be able to hear everything through these thin walls anyway...

"Sorry to disappoint, I've been busy. Not busy now though..." you trail off, attempting to peek into his duffle.

Trevor notices and pulls at the sides of the canvas, exposing the contents within. Your eyes grow wide.

"Wasn't sure what you were into so I brought a bit of everything. Tried to cover all bases."

He looks at you darkly, patiently awaiting a response. Stuffed inside this bag of delights are an assortment of tools; all inspiring various ideas within your sordid little brain. Subconsciously you lick your lower lip.

Pulling open a smaller pocket within the bag, Trevor exposes a number of baggies which he picks up and holds before you. Powders, pills, herbs, along with a couple of substances you don't recognise. Even though you take your work seriously, your free time is your own and as such you were no stranger to a little overindulgence. Work hard, party harder was your go-to mantra.

"Brought some party favours, wasn't sure of your poison so whatever you like Kitten, it's yours. I just want to hear your purr so bad..."

Contentedly you pick two baggies from the selection in his hand and set them on the kitchen counter, before grabbing two cold beers from the fridge. Cracking them open, you hand him one, allowing your fingers to graze against his and lean back against the counter as he packs the other offerings back into the bag of wonder. Striding towards you, he runs his palm up your thigh, dragging his fingertips at an excruciating pace, using his body weight to pin you in place as he does so. You press your face against Trevor's solid chest and deeply inhale his musk. His display of raw power excites you, embellished by a short nibble on your neck which elicits a soft mew from your mouth. Your own free hand has a mind of it's own, sliding up the back of his shirt and revelling in the contact with his skin, making note of the way his muscles move beneath your touch . You've barely begun and your nerves are already on fire.

"Where in the fuck did you come from?" you utter into his ear.

"The gods of depravity themselves baby. Mandy and coke? I like your style." 

You can feel his dick rutting against your thigh, hard and impatient. You reach upwards to lick along his neck, grazing your teeth and softly biting as you go. Letting out a satisfied sigh, he stretches his arms to twist a few wraps over your shoulders, still pinning you to the counter, enjoying your teasing. Bringing his face back to yours, he offers a wrap to your lips, which you accept with a smile before knocking back your beer to wash it down. He does the same. Releasing you from your bind, he pulls out a credit card and begins deftly and expertly prepping the opalescent powder. Taking the opportunity while he's otherwise preoccupied, you circle round him, hands slipping up the back of his shirt, nails raking his flesh. Grinding steadily against his ass, you make the most of your waning sobriety.

"So, T, any hard limits? Anything to watch out for?"

He snorts with laughter.

"If anything you're doing bothers me, I'll let you know sugar. Likewise, if there's anything I need to be aware of..."

You ponder for a second.

"I like to hurt, but I prefer to inflict pain than to receive it. Oh and chaotic switch fights are fun. You know, battling for dominance?" You deftly slide a hand down the front of his trousers to squeeze at his hard-on while grinding against his ass to drive the point home and he lets out a throaty moan.

"It's like you were sent from heaven," he groans, "You want to hurt me? Cos I *really* want you to hurt me..."

You let him finish racking up the lines and turn him around to face you. His pupils are shot and you conclude yours probably are too. Taking another swig of beer, you follow up by reaching an open palm to press flatly against his dick and feel it twitch beneath the pressure.

"Keep going T, I want to hear you beg for it."

He grunts and half thrusts into your hand, biting at his lip, attempting to reach for your clothed breasts - and just like that you break away all contact, taking calculated backwards steps towards the bag on the couch. Taking your time to select your first toy, Trev needily stuffs his hand down the front of his pants to relieve himself. 

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" 

He mockingly stares up at you, smirking, and continues to rub himself disobediently. This is going to be fun, you think. Taking a hunting knife from the bag, you observe the way it glints in the light of the pink neon, revelling in how such a threatening looking man has all but submitted to being your plaything for the night. You want to savour this. Stepping towards him, you pull his wrist out of his pants and graze the blade dangerously close to his manhood, pulling it softly against the strained fabric. Swiftly taking the blade away, you slip it in the belt loop of your jeans.

"Time for a line?" you suggest.

"You first, Kitten" he says in a husky voice, taking out a dollar bill to roll up before he hands it to you.

You lean in close beside him, the heat from his skin only serving to further your growing arousal. You're already so turned on but you want to play with him as much as you can both manage. Inhaling your powder in one neat snort, he repositions himself to standing directly behind you, playfully pinning you down. Tits pressed firmly against the counter with him leaning over your torso, he snorts his line. You wait until his sniffing subsides, before attempting to buck his weight off your upper body. He stands up to allow you to move and you down what few dregs of your beer remain. Trevor's is almost untouched but he hammers it back regardless, setting the empty on the side.

"Move the bag on the floor, now," you instruct.

He abides, then pushes you down onto the couch, swinging his legs over to straddle you. Making an attempting to grab your wrists, you stop him in his tracks, striking him across the face - his dick is pressed hard against your sex and the twitch it gives out when your hand strikes him draws a moan from the both of you, though Trevor's is significantly louder. Your hand sinks towards the knife in your belt loop, gripping the weathered handle as your raise the blade up towards his chest. Plucking at his topmost shirt button, you lever the blade to slice it clean off, slightly exposing the dark coarse hair across his chest. He bites his lower lip in response and grips your body so hard it feels as though you can taste the bruising. You move down to the next button and slice - it pings off somewhere across the room, audibly skittering across the floor. The both of you are grinning like maniacs, eyes threatening to roll back in your skulls in tandem. Impatiently you grab his shirt and slice downwards, shredding the fabric and exposing him. Licking at his skin there, you bite and suck your markings onto Trevor's body but are taken aback as he rips your t-shirt in retaliation, cutting your fun short.

"Hey it's only fair, baby." he chuckles before burying his head between your peaks.

Tugging at your bra, he pulls your breasts out from their confinement, eyes glinting as he spots your nipple piercings. Taking his tongue, he swirls it around your nub while pinching at the other between his thumb and forefinger. Sparks race through your body, already threatening to push you over the edge. You just about manage to toss the knife aside as his other hand finds the button of your jeans and slips inside, his fingers quickly becoming coated in your sweet nectar. Your hand roughly grabs at Trevor's hair, pulling hard until his mouth releases your nipple with a heavy grunt. Your hand still able to control his head, you guide his mouth to your own and bite at his lip before engaging in a battle of tongues once again. The hand in your pants moves further down until you feel a digit at your entrance, pressing but not quite entering, teasing incessantly. You pull away from his mouth in order to hiss your next demand.

"Spit in my mouth"

He leans back, swallowing at the sight of you at his mercy, using the hand not currently teasing your slit to wrap around your throat. You hum contendly and your lips part in a breathless gasp. Attending to your bidding, he spits into your mouth at the exact moment he presses his finger deep inside you. The sensations threaten to overwhelm you and Trevor seems all too aware - you buck up against his thick digit, too eager to have him fill you completely.

"Are you close sugartits?" he growls at you.

You whine underneath the heated grasp of his hand around your throat, making it difficult for you to swallow. Your hips have worked themselves into a rhythm and your vision is becoming deliciously fuzzy. You're about to roll over into bliss, melt into the couch, die and be reborn again... when he suddenly withdraws his hands and steps off you. You're a whimpering angry mess of adrenaline and smudged mascara, ready to curse Trevor to the seventh circle of hell.

"You utter fuck-knuckle, what did you stop for!?" you demand to know, spitting venom.

He sheds the shredded shirt from his shoulders and unbuckles his belt, allowing his trousers to slide down to the floor. The darkening bruises you inflicted on him are glistening, his underwear is wet with precum and he looks so fucking good you could swear none of this is even real. If there was ever a time you wished you could forever live in a moment on loop, this evening was it.

"I've been holding off but I ain't gonna last much longer baby. If we're gonna fuck I want us to cum together."

You grunt at him, anger still residing within your core at being denied your sweet release. He's stood before you, raging hard-on twitching and threatening to break you. You want him so bad, for him to stretch you out and fill you up, but you want to beat him for this. 

"Fine." you spit, "Kneel on the floor first. Hands on your head."

He silently complies, wearing his stupid smirk as always. Unhooking your bra and draping it across his face, you slide out of your jeans until you're just in your panties. You're almost certain his vision isn't completely impaired as he emits a gutteral moan at the sight of you bending over, digging through the duffel bag for your next toy. The telltale metallic clinks alert him to you pulling the length of metal chain out, going on to wrap it once around your dominant hand. You slide a single finger under his chin, forcing his hazy lustful glare to meet your own.

"You want me to beat you huh?" you growl.

"You have no fucking idea, sugar. Make sure you hit nice and hard." he says in a low, guttural rasp.

Your eyes glint, as you circle him like a shark, stopping behind him as you lick up the back of his neck tasting the salt of his sweat. He shivers and grunts but allows the torture on his senses to continue. Biding your time, enjoying the sight of Trevor's straining dick, you suddenly lash the length of chain hard against his ribs. He tenses considerably and almost-but-not-quite doubles over, unleashing a gravelly moan of pleasure. Composing himself, he returns to kneeling at attention with a grunt. 

"Unggh... again!"

You go for the his opposite side this time, again hitting him in the ribs but this time more forcefully. 

"Ughhh, fuck yeah! My dick is so fucking hard right now sugar" he growls with delight.

"You sick fuck," you grin, walking around to face him. "You actually get off on this shit?"

Removing the bra from his head, you step forward and lean down to press a delicate kiss to his forehead. His eyes are watering slightly but he's steadfast in his resolve, wiggling his eyebrows to taunt you. Trying to earn another beating by pushing your buttons.

"You're just as sick as I am baby. Maybe even worse." he utters with an acute awareness that this is very unlikely to be true, but it works.

You wind the chain around your hand several times like a makeshift knuckleduster and lunge forward, punching him square in the gut, making sure to land low and move upwards to wind him. He keels over laughing breathlessly, attempting to catch his breath as he rubs into his own hand through his underwear. You cast aside the chain and kneel with him, wrapping your arms around him, running the nails up and down his flesh attempting to offset the pain with pleasure. You take hold of the side of his neck and bring him in for a kiss, passionately tonguing the man you just kicked the shit out of - nipples rubbing against his firm body as you become wrapped up in one another. He's attempting to speak, but it's coming out as nothing but hoarse whispers.

"Hey, take your time T. What's up baby?"

"-- I think I love you... I love... I love you..."

You assume it's just something he says in the throes of passion and continue to caress him, attempting to offer comfort. 

"You got it in you to bend me over the kitchen counter?"

He chuckles, eyes still a little watery, "'Course I do sugar, lemme just get another line in me."

You stand and help haul Trevor to his feet, both going in to inhale another line. Almost immediately after he's roughly tearing your panties down your legs and discarding his own underwear, grabbing you by the back of your neck and pinning you to the counter. You moan out, finally feeling his dick against your slit after all this time. Knowing neither of you will last much longer, T slowly rubs the head of his generous cock at your opening before slowly pushing himself in, easing his hips towards your plump ass until he bottoms out. You both groan and shudder in unison, in turn feeling yourself convulsing around his girth, enjoying every inch of Trevor filling you up and stretching your tight little cunt. The hand pinning your neck moves to your lower back, the other roughly gripping at your thigh as T slowly makes shallow thrusts into you.

"F-fuck Trev, I'm so close... Your dick feels so fucking good... Like you could about tear me open..." 

Your breathing is so laboured its almost impossible to speak and he grunts loudly in agreement, enunciated by a harsh slap to your ass.

"Your cunt feels so good Kitten! I can feel you trying to milk the cum right outta me" 

You shift the angle of your hips to have Trevor's thrusts hit your sweet spot, clenching on his length as you both build a steady rhythm, hard and fast as all feeling of being tethered to this earth begins to unravel. You reach down between your thighs and press on your clit, setting in motion a raging inferno of pleasure, bucking back onto T's fat cock. It sends him spilling over his edge, thrusting hard and deep into you, burying himself as thick ropes of cum fill you to the brim, his seed spilling out and down your leg with each pump. He's riding out his high with you, still rutting deeply, your orgasm continuing to squeeze him and milk him for all he's got. Sweaty and panting, you stay connected until your ability to breathe is restored. One last press into your tight hole and you both groan, Trevor pulling his dick from you and giving your ass a last gentle slap. He uses his grip at your hips to flip you over, reaching his arm under your lower back to support you as he brings you in for a ravenous kiss.

"Mhm... Sweetness that was fucking delicious." 

He growls and you moan in approval.

"Mhmm... holy shit..."

You take his fingers and intertwine them with your own, pulling him towards the bedroom and then under the covers with you. Too tired to fuck but too buzzed to sleep, you both continue to touch and caress each other through your high, prolonging the ecstasy. Small lingering kisses and nuzzling against one another's bodies serve to satisfy your primal craving for touch, wanting nothing more than to lose yourselves entirely.

"This might be the drugs talking, but I don't want to ever leave here." Trevor confesses. "I just want to be wrapped up in you forever."

Burying your head into his chest, you allow yourself to wonder what that would be like and it occurs to you that you know next to nothing about T - but you have all the time in the world to learn about each other, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So obviously this was a lot more heated than the first chapter, but I'm just enjoying exploring writing at the moment, allowing my imagination to reach where it wants. 
> 
> Again, I'm new to writing anything like this so any and all feedback is appreciated :)
> 
> -
> 
> Also this is sort of an afterthought, but "Hatef--k" by The Bravery fits this chapter quite well.


	3. First Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up next to T.
> 
> Fluff. Angst. Smut.
> 
> -
> 
> Edited & extended [2/9/19]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is an ongoing work.
> 
> As always feedback is appreciated :)

You were slowly roused from your sleep, belly down and face buried into the pillow, becoming aware that you were feeling constricted. Turning to look over your shoulder, you couldn't help but smile at your conquest's limbs draped over your body, almost protectively. Dark patches of blood that had pooled beneath his skin and angry looking scratches marked him at yours, at least for the time being. Trevor was a great fuck and he even looked sort of cute as he slept, in his own messed up kind of way. It was all working at breaking down your meticulously constructed defences - but part of you panics as his words from last night ring through the haze in your head.

"I don't want to ever leave here. I just want to be wrapped up in you forever."

Did he really mean that? The two of you barely know each other. You were pretty sure he still didn't even know your name for god's sake, not unless you'd shared it during your drug addled haze the night before. The reckless part of you wanted him to mean it though. Wanted to run with it. To run with the wind, with him and to see where it all took you. It was rare to find someone stimulating enough to hold your attention, but when it hit, it hit hard.

A sharp huff on the back of your neck was enough to snap you out of your awkward state of uncertainty. Trevor clutched at your waist and pulled you tightly to his chest, burying his nose behind your ear. His exhale rumbled through you, sending tingles down your spine and his hand moving down between your legs told you he was awake. Probably. 

"Morning sugartits"

Trevor slid a finger across your slit, trailing upwards, callused digit offering welcome friction against your clit. You couldn't help but writhe against him, but found he was managing to restrict your movement pretty effectively with the weight of one sturdy thigh pinning your hip to the mattress. Swiping at the entrance to your hole, gathering your slick honey, he brings his hand up over your shoulder to savour you, sucking at his finger crudely.

"Mm, you taste so good I'd put your syrup on my pancakes. You're delicious baby," he mumbles amusedly.

A small pathetic moan escapes your lips, your back arching against his chest.

"And you're deplorable," you joke.

He gradually releases his hold on you and you seize the chance to turn over and face him. Trevor looks at you, corners of his mouth curling inwards into a grin. His murky brown eyes give the impression of being able to peer within you, past your shield and to the place where most people can't reach. It makes you uncomfortable. Feeling unsure of how this will all play out between the two of you, you want to steer the mood of the morning away from deep thought and back to the realms of obscenity, with his syrup pancakes. You fail miserably.

"So how come you've managed to stay single? Smart and filthy as fuck - the chances of that alone are slim to none - but the fact you actually like me..." he trails off.

Placing one hand delicately on his ribs, you feather through his thinning hair with the other.

"You sound like you're used to people not liking you."

Trevor hums dejectedly.

"Well, guess I'm used to the same sort of treatment," you finish.

He smiles softly, sincerely, as he ghosts your jawline with his touch.

"I can't imagine anyone not liking you. You're the first good thing I've seen out here in this godforsaken wasteland for a loooong time."

Trevor plants a small kiss on your forehead and you can feel the heat creeping across your cheeks, as well as between your legs. Being opened up, being vulnerable, has a way of making you come undone.

"That's real sweet of you," you begin, "but we hardly know each other..."

He cuts you off.

"But I want to know you. The fact I've not scared you off yet is enough for me to want to know you." he says, wearing a serious expression, awaiting your response.

"How bad could you be really?" you delve.

He shifts, bringing himself to sit against the headboard and you follow suit, noting the shift in tension, feeling it hanging heavy in the space between you both. Despite the years shown in the lines in Trevor's face, in this moment he looks closer to a scared boy. Self-conscious and apprehensive.

"You know I said I was a businessman? Well that's not exactly the whole truth," he pauses, "I mean I do run my own company, but our shipments aren't completely... legal..."

Your mind is trying to piece this fresh information together with the image of the man you've enjoyed so much but you're stumbling a little. It's not exactly the first time you've been involved with a lawless man, but it's also not something to be taken lightly. There's the fun kind of danger, and then there's the kind that lands you in a shallow grave for buying the wrong kind of milk... 

"Being on the wrong side of the law doesn't bother me, so long as you don't have a habit of lashing out. I've had to fight my way out of a couple of relationships before..." you explain.

"Oh no, no sugar. I'd never hurt you. I could never. That goes for anyone else too, I'd never see you hurt baby," his voice is thick with consternation.

Against your better judgement, your raw attraction to him overrides your common sense. You smile sweetly as you place a hand on his forearm, attempting to offer some small comfort.

"Well then I don't see any reason we can't see each other, I mean, get to know each other - whatever the fuck this is I mean..." your words are jumbled, suspense having stunted your ability to be coherent.

Trevor lets out a relieved grunt of approval.

"I got you sweetness, don't worry. Now, I believe I was in the middle of breakfast..." he growls.

He positions himself between your thighs and peels back the sheets, along with the remnants of your modesty. The sight below you almost steals your breath - broad hands gripping tightly at the soft meat of your inner thighs, Trevor parting them as he breathes warm and moist over your cunt. Locking his eyes with yours he sucks on his forefinger, coating it in spit, before using it expertly to circle your asshole. Applying pressure, he kneads and presses while flattening his tongue against your folds, lapping at your wetness. His stubble scrapes against your thighs and you begin to lose yourself to the moment, surrendering to Trevor's will. Still tonguing your sweet spot, he plunges his finger into your ass, earning a savage moan from you as you grab at the back of his neck. He starts to work at you, moving in shallow thrusts at first, with you pressing his face hard against your heat. Suddenly driven, you grind against his mouth, trying to fuck his face the best you can. His tongue stops licking at the length of your slit and begins darting in and out of you, finger now plunging deeper into your ass. The rhythm is bringing you closer to your edge, warmth coiling itself within your core. Trevor begins grinding into to the mattress to satiate his throbbing cock and as you scratch from the base of his neck and up the back of his scalp, you decide it's not enough. Impatiently, you wind your fingers in the back of his hair and pull him away from you, grinning.

"On your back, now," you bark at him.

"Yes Ma'am."

He withdraws his finger and complies, leaning away from you and resting on his broad shoulders. Now he has better access to himself, his hand moves to grab his dick but you have other ideas. 

"Hands off, it's my turn to play with you," you say, batting his hand away.

Smirking, he moves his hands up above his head and leans back, awaiting whatever you feel like inflicting upon him. Using your thumb and forefinger to carefully grasp the base of his dick, just barely touching his hard-on at all, you trail your tongue across his balls before moving two fingers underneath to pad at his taint in a circular motion. He groans and shifts beneath you, seemingly getting more and more worked up. Taking your time, you use the tip of your tongue to paint stripes of saliva up his length, flicking back and forth as you reach the underneath of his head and moving to collect the droplets of precum leaking out. Grunting loudly, Trevor pushes your mouth onto his dick, sinking deep into your throat and bucking hard before releasing you from his grip. You struggle to swallow but persist, eyes becoming watery from gagging on his cock. 

"I knew you wanted to choke on it, you dirty little slut," he half growls, half pants at you.

Resuming your hold on his balls, you delicately pull them away from his body as he thrusts his thick cock in and out of your mouth, watching it disappear within the warm tight clutches of your throat, lips becoming plush from the assault. Your other hand strokes at the coarse stripe of hair up to his navel as you fight back the tears, with your pussy beginning to ache from lack of attention.

"Mmm... baby, you're so good to your old Uncle T..." he growls.

He's making soft little moans amidst the occasional grunt and you pull yourself off him, making a wet pop sound as you do. You're not about to let him get his way. Not before you've cum. Trevor is understandably frustrated at this move and grabs you roughly by the hips, sitting you across his thighs with his dick nestled up against you. Using your new position to your advantage, you lean in to engage in a battle of tongues, biting hard at each other's lips as you grind against his throbbing cock.

"Just when you were being such a good girl, you decide to go and be a tease..." he pants into the crook of your neck.

"You love being at my mercy. Look at you, already a twitchy mess and I haven't even got on your dick yet. Pathetic."

At that last utterance, the word pathetic summoned a twitch so vigorous out of him that it surprised you, but it gives you a delicious idea. Your eyes turn dark as you lean in close to him and wrap your fingers around his neck, breathing roughly into his ear.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you actually like being used." 

Trevor's dick twitches underneath you again, this time flicking against your little nub. You both shudder, but determined, you press on.

"Big, bad T wants to be used as my own personal sex toy? Is that right?"

You lean back to look him dead in the eye. He grunts in response and bucks against you - but all the bravado has dried up. It's more out of neediness and poor impulse control. Taking pity on him, you relax your grip around his throat and move your hips up above his eager cock, feeling the head glide against your entrance. Right as you line him up with your hole, you reassume the tight grip around his neck, turning his breathing laboured. Almost perfectly in sync with him fighting to swallow, you slide his fat cock inside you all the way to the hilt, feeling his hips convulsing involuntarily as he fills you up. You both shudder and moan together as you release his throat, leaning both hands on his chest to find purchase, riding him hard. Trevor brings his thighs up underneath you, working into your established rhythm, fucking you hard and hungry for release. He begins to draw bestial moans from your mouth, your lips contorting into angry shapes, cursing Trevor as you approach your edge. You both begin panting, your sweat mixing and becoming a new heavenly scent of its own. Fucking him hard with all you've got left in you, you reach down to rub at your clit furiously. Your vision begins to darken at the edges, your ears are ringing and as you go in for one last crucifying grip around Trevor's throat he bucks into you wildly - the undoing of you both. Pressing around his windpipe hard enough to bruise him was apparently all he needed to coax his load into painting the walls of your cervix with thick white cum, warming you from the core and ripping through you like an aftershock to your own orgasm. Or maybe it was him pumping his load into you that made you cum. At this point, it was all you could do to moan appreciatively in the direction of Trevor's face, let alone figure out who came first. You were both fucking done. Still contracting around his softening dick, you swung one leg over his body, releasing him from your vice-like grip. Your combined fluids seeped out and mixed in with the sweat of you both - the scent of a victorious fuck.

First light was just beginning to creep in through the shutter shades, casting a lurid shade of pink and orange across your bodies as you tried to catch your breath. 

"Just hold me, would ya?" Trevor murmurs.

His arms snake around you, the slick perspiration allowing limbs to glide almost effortlessly as he clutches you tightly. You feel as though you might suffocate, face buried into the thick muscle of his chest, musing that it would actually be an ok way to go in the grand scheme of things. Crushed against Trevor under the weight of his apparent neediness, as though loosening his hold on you by even a margin would cause you to disintegrate. It made you feel safe. Wanted. You'd honestly missed having something like this in your life. Granting him his request, you wind your arms around his torso and up his back, fingertips grazing the base of his skull. He lets slip a satisfied moan and you feel his body relax into yours, as if he was almost willing the two of you to become one single entity. You lay like this for a while, endorphins surging around your system like embers in the aftermath of a fire. Trevor stirs from his position, bringing you somewhat back to reality. In the cold light of day, the notion of shacking up with a self-professed criminal didn't bother you, but it did instigate a need to probe further. How far off the track had he strayed, you wondered.

"Trevor?"

"Mhm.. what's up doll?"

"If we're gonna do... whatever this is... I want to know..." you fumble your words searching for the right phrasing.

"You want to know exactly how big a fuck up you're dealing with?" he grumbles.

Still trailing your fingertips over his skin, you shush him.

"I mean if that's how you wanna word it then sure, but I was going to ask exactly what your job involves. I feel like I need a bit more to go off of than "illegal stuff", you know?"

The tension is palpable. Legs still entangled, the two of you unwrap yourselves from each other just enough to make eye contact and you notice Trevor exudes a feeling of mild irritation.

"You won't want to stick around if I tell you," he says with a tinge of hurt.

"Try me," you challenge. "You don't know where I've come from, same as I don't know you. Isn't that the whole point?"

He huffs and furrows his brow.

"Nghh, fine... Just don't say I didn't warn you" he snaps, sounding annoyed, "Ok, so I got a few different projects that bring in money. Main ones are gun and drug running, meth and coke production..."

He pauses a moment to gauge your reaction, but you're purposefully reserving judgement until he's done.

"Used to be that taking scores from banks was the main focus but that's taken a back seat now," he continues, "Got a couple strip joints that pretty much take care of themselves...".

He trails off and studies your face, anticipating your reaction. Not allowing your expression to give away your stance, you keep calm as you formulate your reply. 

"Ok. Kind of a big deal," you say, "But the only thing that's a solid deal breaker for me would be if you were to purposefully hurt me. The rest? I can work with."

Trevor's eyes narrow and he shakes his head.

"You don't mean that... You don't know what you're saying," he remarks, "I'm the definition of a hazard; a fucking degenerate. I've killed people for fun of it and I'll do it again."

You can't deny the way the word degenerate rips through you, a sick sense of excitement drawing you further in to the void. Sliding a hand up his jaw to still him, you brush your thumb over his lower lip tenderly.

"Trev," you begin, "I hear you, trust me, but I'm not scared. Maybe I'm too reckless for my own good, but I've seen some shit in my time and... well... normal bores the fuck out of me. Once you've seen the underbelly of life, your own version of normal becomes distorted right? It's like the old ways aren't enough anymore".

His scrunched brow relaxes a little, but he doesn't interrupt you.

"My life has been on it's head for a long time... It's hard to connect with people unless they've gone through the shit, you know? Like, I can't function without a bit of crazy in my life, otherwise it just doesn't feel real," you explain, "It's like I told you when we first met, I have a thing for bastards... Most people would probably call it mental illness..."

It's his turn to hush you.

"Baby doll, if all of that is how you feel, don't let anyone tell you it's because you're broken. You're a thing of beauty," he maintains.

Trevor cradles the back of your head and directs your gaze towards his. Leaning in at an excruciating pace, chapped lips brush against your own without fully connecting. You relish the warmth of his breath as it hitches slightly, intimacy serving to kindle the fire within you, before you feel his tongue parting your lips and invading your mouth. You moan softly, one of your hands making its way to Trevor's lower back and pressing him against you. In this moment, you'd happily sink deeper into the chasm of insanity of your own volition - it seemed like a nice place to be.


	4. Lost wages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader has a bone to pick with Trevor, with some pretty fun consequences.
> 
> -
> 
> Additional tags for this chapter include rimming, switch play & extra smut. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, writing this took much longer than expected but hopefully it's worth it. Thank you for your patience and continued support guys, it's honestly super motivating :)

The harsh midday sun begins to scorch your exposed skin as you carefully packed your tattoo equipment into the paniers of your Vortex. Glancing down at your watch, you noted you had ample time to make it out to your next client. Good, no rushing around today, you think to yourself. Kicking the machine into a dull roar, desert sand clouding up behind you, you wheel out onto the weathered tarmac and head out to Stab City. In no time, the aptly named trailer park loomed before you, corrugated metal shapes jutting out from the dirt. Pulling up in front of a particularly battered trailer home, you give a short sharp whistle. Donny, the guy you were due to work on, bursts out of the screen door with a scowl on his face.

"Hey you ain't welcome round these parts no more darlin'! I suggest you turn around 'fore things get loud," he hollers.

"The fuck are you talkin' about Donny? You asked me to come down here. We've got an appointment scheduled for 1pm, or did you forget?" you quip back at him.

He strides down off the decking and makes his way towards you and you're quick to notice his body language is not at all friendly. You're not quite getting your head around why one of your steady customers is suddenly flipping out on you. Growing irritated, you attempt to get to the bottom of what his damn issue is.

"Are you telling me that I've brought my kit all the way down here for nothing? If you're having second thoughts about the design, I've got time to re-draw it..."

He stops you.

"Nah it ain't that. Rumour mill is sayin' you're kickin' 'bout with Trevor Philips these days. That sound 'bout right?"

You're confused. What did Trevor have to do with your day job? And it's not like you were dating, not properly, but even so how the hell did these guys know?

"I mean yeah sure, but what's that got to do with me coming down here? I've pretty much known you since I set up in Blaine County, Donny. You guys got beef or something?"

Donny eyes you with suspicion. 

"You really don't know? Maybe that's a talk you need to have with that psycho boyfriend of yours then."

You can feel your brow furrow, muscles in your face twisting all on their own at the suggestion of Trevor being the problem. Whatever the root cause is, it's clear you're getting nowhere chewing it over stood here, desert heat only adding to your waning mood.

"Fine, whatever Don. I'll catch you later."

He huffs and folds his arms.

"Yeah I wouldn't count on that sweetheart. Just move on out ah here before the runners get back."

-

The run in at the trailer park perplexes and annoys you most of the afternoon, so much so that even putting distance between you and Sandy Shores doesn't seem to help. Usually coasting the open roads has a way of calming your nerves but today it's barely made a dent. You motion to the server for a refill on your coffee and continue to simmer. Knowing that Trevor is neck deep in illegal shipments, the most you could guess at is some kind of turf war? Whatever the issue, it had clearly more than rattled the trailer park lads to hear that you were with T. You knew it'd all be resolved eventually, but resign to the fact freshly poured coffee is demanding your attention. You sip and consciously relax your shoulders, allowing your worries to be put on the back burner, eyes hazily watching cars pass outside. Pulling out a pen from inside your jacket you mindlessly doodle on the corner of your napkin - cathartic concept drawings of eventual tattoo designs. You always did your best work on the road and it doubled to soothe your constantly racing mind.

Feeling your phone buzz in your pocket you open a new message, the contents of which cause you to snort with laughter into your drink - a selfie of Trev laid back on his beat-up couch wearing nothing but a tiger-print banana hammock and a floral silk dressing gown now has your full attention. Your eyes focus on his cocky grin and the way he rests an open palm on the bulge in his underwear. Definitely saving that, you muse to yourself. Goddamn.

"Adorable Trev. Show me more x" you type as you smirk, hitting send.

You take a mouthful of coffee and feel the remainder of your angst begin to dissolve. Nothing like arousal to clear the mind of worry.

"K gimme a sec I got company xxx", he replies.

He's got someone over but he's still in *this* getup? You silently chide yourself for the briefest pangs of jealousy and remind yourself you're not officially an item, but you hunger to have him for yourself all the same. Sharing does not agree with you in the slightest.

Another buzz, another message. No words - simply a picture of Trev in a small shabby bathroom, one leg crudely propped up on the toilet lid, hand firmly grasping at his unclothed cock. Even with a semi he's still impressive. Your ache to touch him reverberates from deep within you. It's mad that you can go literal years without any interest in a person, but when fascination manifests there's no stopping you. Everything about his physicality is rugged and menacing and it sings to you, especially at the thought of lording over him, making him whine and moan at your behest. Thick muscular thighs spattered with dark hair, trailing upwards to his toned stomach, pink and silvery scars haphazardly decorating his body with reminders of reckless behaviour... You'd happily stare at him all day but settle for sending a reply.

"You'd better be wearing that the next time we fuck. Speaking of which, you free this evening? x"

"Come over now. I wanna play xxx"

"Thought you said you've got company? x"

"Yeah just my buddy Michael. Don't worry tho this ain't a threesome request, I don't share. Thought we could make a game of making him uncomfortable. It'll be fun xxx"

You mull it over. On the one hand you'd never met this Michael guy before, so you were acutely aware you had no idea about what you were about to walk into. On the other, the sudden idea of teasing Trevor mercilessly in front of another person tickled you. It was the latter that ultimately won out. You were bound to your darker impulses and Trevor had that all figured out, not that it was a difficult task. Not to mention you wanted payback for him costing you a client this afternoon.

"I get to tease the fuck out of you in front of your bud? Sure. Gimme your address x"

"We're supposed to be annoying Mikey, not me xxx"

"I'd much rather watch you squirm until you can't handle it any more. You've been a bad boy and bad boys get punished. Address. Now x"

"What did I do? I mean I'm always a bad boy, but what am I being punished for baby doll? ;) xxx"

"We'll discuss it later. You going to let me torture you or not? x"

"NE Sandy Shores, Zancudo Ave. Red Bodhi outside xxx"

-

Trevor answers the door in his dressing gown and underwear, with scuffed tan work boots and grubby socks only adding to his eccentric style. You smile, admiring the way his tattoos wrap around the harsh contours of his body, ink faded with age. Something about his get up that you can't quite place a finger on is stoking your fire and you feel the embers creeping up your thighs and into your core. He's all wrong but it feels so damn right. Stepping from the threshold, he steals you into the assurance of his long arms, nibbling his way up your neck before locking you into an inescapable clash of mouths and tongues. His saliva mixing with your own is like mana. Your hands reaching inside the silk fabric and winding around his torso, you breathe in a heady scent of gasoline and motor oil, drawing out a hum of approval from your chest. Reaching up to his neck, you growl lowly into his ear.

"Slutty looks really good on you," you say with a dark chuckle, "Missed you Trev."

He makes a barely audible whine and clutches you tighter, nosing into the crook of your neck.

"Missed you too sugar. Like, a whole fuckin' lot."

The impatient sound of a man clearing his throat can be heard from within the trailer, interrupting your reunion.

"Hey T, who's this?", the man says. 

The figure wears a crumpled but expensive looking suit, garnished with various stains. You assume this is Michael. He looks as though he may have been a bit of a ladykiller in his hayday - a once classically handsome man, but the years have bestowed him with a tired face and a sizeable paunch that protrudes over his waistband. As painful as it is, you partially separate from Trevor and step inside. He still has one possessive hand on your lower back, tracing small circles, as you stand before the disgruntled stranger.

"Mikey, this is (y/n) - and - (y/n) this is Mikey," turning to look at you he explains, "Me and Mikey have worked together since the old days, we go waayyyyy back."

Michael leans on the kitchen counter nursing a bottle of beer. He does not look impressed in the slightest. Miserable even. 

"Yeah sometimes I wish we didn't go waayyyy back," Michael grumbles mockingly. 

"Don't be like that Pork Chop, you know I'd take a bullet for you any day of the week," Trevor laments.

Michael shifts uncomfortably, leaning back and looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else right now.

"Yeah I know T..." he sighs, turning towards you "So, (y/n), how long have you had the displeasure of knowing this psychotic asshole?"

You grin broadly, inwardly reliving the time you had spent with Trevor so far. Looking up at Trevor's harsh hazel eyes, you softly place a single hand upon his chest. He's delicate and unbreakable all in one; a mirror of yourself.

"About a month?" you smile.

Michael shoots Trevor a look but you can't quite figure out its meaning. 

"A month and you haven't thought to run for the hills yet? I don't know whether to be impressed or alarmed..." Michael scoffs.

Trevor doesn't like this. Not one bit. He strides forward, breaking away from you and presses his chest against Michael's threateningly.

"Listen here Pork Chop, I adore (y/n) and she wouldn't be here unless she wanted to be!", he spits. 

"That's the part that worries me," says Michael in response. 

Stepping between the two men, you push at Trevor's sternum, willing him to calm himself. 

"Hey, hey! Gents! Can we chill the fuck out for a second?" you plead, "I'm not sure what you're getting at but I can assure you I'm here of my own volition. Now can we just take it easy? Enjoy a drink?"

Trevor eyes Michael with a hint of attempted intimidation but eases off, his hand returning to the curve of your lower back. 

"Ok, ok..." Michael bemoans, "We can chill. It's not like I want to be back home anyway."

"Why, Amanda still grinding your gears?" Trevor kvetches, handing you a beer before pulling you to sit on the couch beside him.

It's a little raggedy but functional, like much of the furniture in the room. You shift against Trevor, finding comfort in nestling closely to his body, revelling in the soft warmth of him.

"Yeah something like that..." Michael sighs, "Anyway... So are you two, like, a thing then?"

You laugh at him. He's apparently more emotionally stunted than the rednecks you're used to dealing with. Surely most people would be glad their friend had found someone to obsess over?

"Yes we're a *thing*", you mock, "Why, does that offend you?"

Michael shifts off his elbow and points a stubby finger, motioning between you and Trevor while glaring sharply at him.

"So long as whatever *this* is doesn't interfere with business, carry on T. Just don't come crying to me when you're all alone again, I haven't got the damn energy," Michael gripes.

Trevor rolls his eyes, but his voice wavers ever so slightly like he's genuinely wounded, "Well I'm just *charmed* that we have your blessing Mikey," he says sarcastically, "Now will you lighten the fuck up?"

Michael barks forth a short humourless laugh, a sad attempt at shattering the awkwardness, and shrugs.

"Yeah, sure. Nice to meet you (y/n)..." he says with all of the enthusiasm of a wet dishcloth.

You recline on the couch, leaning into Trevor's ribs as he moves to drape an arm around your shoulder. You enjoy his overprotectiveness. It makes you feel safe. Sliding a hand up Trevor's leg you allow it to rest atop his thigh, brushing the dark hair with the very tips of your fingers. The fact you were here to torture him hadn't slipped your mind so you figure it's as good a time to start as any. Feeling his leg jerk slightly in response you can't say he agrees.

"So...You guys got any funny stories about the way back days?" you inquire, hoping to lighten the mood.

-

It's late into the night and the coyotes can be heard yipping and howling in the distance, punctuating the desert with their chatter. Several beers later and the mood has changed considerably, with Michael having shed his suit jacket and button down, clinking a glass bottle against that of his running buddy's and cheering whatever hilarious shitshow of a robbery they'd just reminisced upon. Droplets of beer had soaked into his under shirt, pooling outwards into strangely mesmerising patterns. The truth was, you were trying to distract yourself from Trevor's need for your touch. It was excruciating given you had felt him shifting beneath you all evening; your legs draped sideways over his, still seated on the couch, him trying to rub his crotch against you to find just the slightest amount of friction but failing completely. Even though it was equally painful for the both of you, you were determined to exact your punishment upon him. Michael chuckled and stood, a little uneasy on his feet.

"I gotta take a piss," Michael announces before shuffling to the bathroom, pulling the weak concertina door closed behind him.

Straight away, Trevor's eyes are wild as he leans in to nibble at your earlobe, growling as he does.

"Come on cupcake, just touch me a little? I'm dying over here. I neeeed you..." he moans.

Closing your eyes to sharpen your focus, you will yourself to not cave to his touch, ignoring the sheer force of the magnetism between your bodies. You let out a small huff and snap open your eyes, gazing into his as you snake your hand into your own underwear and coat a single finger in your juices. Withdrawing it again, you move the finger up towards Trevor's lips at an agonisingly slow pace. His lips part in anticipation, tongue extended, eager to taste you.

"Bad boys don't get treats," you say with an air of indifference, taking the finger away from his face and plunging it into your own mouth to suck.

Trevor shoots you a look of fury, lip curling up over a lopsided snarl, eyebrows drawn tight. He lets out an irritated grunt and ruts up against your leg in frustration, grinding hard in attempt to find relief for a brief moment. No matter how much he wanted you, he had agreed to play in accordance with your earlier demands and if anything Trevor was a man of his word. Otherwise he'd most definitely be pounding you into the couch right about now. Instead he sits there, begrudgingly obedient, every inch of him aching to break you. Striding back into the room, Michael seats himself on the dining room chair facing the couch. He studies Trevor's sulky expression, reading him, before softly laughing under his breath. It doesn't go unnoticed, as Trevor shoots daggers at his buddy, daring him to say something.

"What, she holding out on you T? I know that look, seen it a thousand times. The one that says you've been told you can't have it your way," Michael jests, "Not often I've seen you actually do as you're told though..."

He was all too used to being denied sexually and it amused him greatly to witness Trevor on the receiving end for once. Lifting your leg to wrap it around Trevor's back, you lean into him, using your beer-free hand to stroke at the back of his neck, shushing him. This actually seems to work, soothing the deep rumbles of anger within his chest, but the chagrin remained painted across his face.

"Unlike you Mikey, I actually respect women," Trevor scorns before turning to you, speaking lowly, "Can I at least know what I'm being punished for now? Now that this fat snake isn't going to give me a break..."

Michael scoffs at the thought of anyone being bold enough to punish Trevor, knowing full well the extent of his past indiscretions.

"So long as you're ok with me being open about it?" you probe. He nods in response and you continue, "You know how I ride out to tattoo clients? How they're usually the same guys I work on, repeat customers if you will? And how they're mostly all bikers?"

Trevor eyes you sheepishly, like an unruly puppy being scolded for eating the trash again. You have an inkling he knows where this is going. 

"I had an appointment over at Stab City today and was told in no uncertain terms that I'm not welcome anymore. Now why might that be?" you say calmly with an authoritarian tone.

Michael seems to be eating this awkward exchange right up, stifling his giggles as he swigs his beer. Trevor adjusts his position, turning toward you as much as he can manage with your legs locked around him. 

"Baby, I... The Lost MC are my competition, it's all turf war bullshit," Trevor says, yielding to you. 

"T didn't you *kill* the competition?" Michael interjects, a hearty laugh escaping from him.

"Most of them. So what? Those fuckers had it coming!" Trevor seethes, "Always got a new chapter moving in to fill the crater I leave behind... I swear they're like roaches!"

You set your beer down on the floor and embrace him, still quietly stroking at his neck while you shush him gently. He leans into you and grunts quietly.

You try to reassure Trevor, "You know I don't care that you have beef with them, but I'm mad I lost some of my best customers. I haven't figured out how they knew about us either..."

"Yeah that's my bad too..." he sounds a little dubious, "I sort of got high and shouted it from the rooftops. Literally. Maybe more than once. I was happy, you know? You make me happy (y/n)".

His expression is still a little wary but a small smile pulls at the corners of his mouth and feels like home. 

"Right so lemme get this straight? You tattoo bikers," Michael laughs, "and you're giving T blue balls because he's scared off most of your customers? Man, reality TV ain't even this good."

"He's on time out," you insist.

"I'm glad you find this so amusing Mikey. As I recall, Amanda hasn't touched your dick in months," Trevor spits.

"Hey, low blow T! That's not cool!" Michael sputters.

You chuckle. Both men were fast becoming your new favourite source of entertainment. Palming over Trevor's stomach, reaching around to his hip you slip your thumb in his waistband and softly trail back and forth. He hums with gratification that you're finally giving him some physical affection, regaining his confidence.

"Speaking of which, it cool if I crash here tonight T?" the older man asks, "I don't think 'Mand is gonna appreciate me rocking up at stupid o' clock."

"Sure thing M, mi casa es su casa amigo. Just don't get all jealous when we're banging each other's brains out later," Trevor says, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"That's assuming she even let's you," Michael sneers.

Trevor's face falls as he locks eyes with you, boring a hole into your resolve, pleading. You reach up to kiss his cheek, stubble scratching at the surface of your lips as you stroke at his jawline.

"Don't worry babe," you reassure, "Time out doesn't last forever."

He looks positively delighted, pulling you in for a long drawn-out kiss. You don't deny him, instead allowing his tongue to invade your mouth ravenously as you squeeze at the flesh around his waistline, thumb rubbing harshly at his hip bone. 

"Alright, alright kids, no need to show off," Michael chides, "Anyone for another beer?"

"Sure," you say.

"Do you even need to ask?," Trevor grunts.

Michael totters toward the fridge before tossing you each a cold one, seating himself back down once he managed to crack the top off his own bottle. The three of you continue to banter well into to the night; the guys recalling bad jobs gone wrong and comical misadventures, Michael making jabs saying this is the cleanest the trailer has been in a long time, Trevor explaining he had Ron tidy up or else he'd break his leg, with you enjoying the silent torment of your lover. The sky was just beginning to lighten, hues of peach and pink cutting through the inky darkness, as Michael began to yawn in quicker succession. He announces his need to get some shut eye and the relief from Trevor is unmistakable, his building excitement noted by the pattern of his breathing, the way his chest rises and falls deeply with assurance. He grabs another couple of beers from the fridge while you both bid Michael good night, heading off to the bedroom. This being the first time you've been to Trevor's place and his bedroom is unexplored territory to you. Bending over to give him a good view of your rump, you unlace your boots and place them by the doorway. Climbing up onto the large double bed which takes up most of the room, you lean resting against the wall as you sip your beer. Trevor kicks off his boots and joins you, tangling his legs with your own as he patiently awaits his prize. 

"You've redeemed yourself T," you coo, stroking his face.

"Does that mean I can bend you over the bed and fuck you into next week? I can't wait to pump you full of cum..."

"Shhh... such a dirty boy..." you smile, "You've done well but your punishment isn't quite over yet."

You rest your beer on the side table, swinging your leg over to straddle both of his legs but stop short of his pelvis. He looks apprehensive and you notice he's already rock hard, dick straining obscenely against his underwear. Tilting his chin up toward you, you meet his mouth for a brief kiss before pulling away again.

"You're my plaything for the night, which means no cumming unless I say so. Do you think you can handle that?" you say darkly. 

"But kitten... I'm so hard it hurts..." he whines pitifully.

"The sooner you endure it, the sooner you get to cum," you whisper.

He rocks his hips into the empty space between you both and moans, before finally giving a permissive nod. 

"Good boy," you hum, lips curving into a twisted smile. 

You slide downwards, positioning yourself between his legs, as you begin kissing at a deathly slow pace. The occasional nibble and lick causes him to tense up as he fights the urge to touch you, not wanting to displease you. Meanwhile you were savouring the sensation of his flesh beneath your tongue, between your teeth and growing hungry to have his length buried deep inside you. It was only the whimpers and grunts he was making that kept you on task, evoking a burning need to witness the man before you fall apart. Upon reaching his inner thighs, you pawed firmly as you pried them open, licking either side of his manhood. 

"You're going to be the death of me (y/n)..." he utters desperately, hand running through his own thinning hair as he leans back further against the wall. 

You slide your fingers into his underwear, beginning to pull them down, Trevor lifting his ass off the mattress slightly to assist. He draws one leg upwards, unhooking his ankle from the bunched up fabric and sets it back down. Now face to face with his cock, your own needs were beginning to distract you. Salivating, you resume licking and biting at the sensitive skin between his legs.

"Hold your cock and balls up," you breathe with salicious urgency, "But no playing with yourself."

You hook around his thighs, dragging him down the mattress and spread him open even further, cruelly licking down the fingers that cradle his balls. Flattening your tongue, you drag and press it against his perinium, earning various curse words from Trevor's disgusting mouth. Bringing your thumbs to press into the nerves around his ass, you lick straight over his puckered hole, massaging the surrounding tissue as you work at him. He moans toward the ceiling, privately questioning which god saw fit to drop you into his lap and what he'd done to deserve you. Suddenly, taking the plunge breaks his train of thought, as you dart the tip of your tongue into his hole and revel in the feeling of him wriggling beneath you. He's crumbling and you love it. Working a fingertip beside your tongue, you alternate licking and pushing into him, before long finger fucking Trevor while he pants above you, him staring down with glazed eyes as you torment him. 

"Mm not gonna last much longer..." he grunts.

Resenting his building orgasm, you pull your finger from his ass, as you move up to his waiting mouth, allowing him to taste himself on your kiss. 

"I'm going to get undressed while you calm down a little. Can you do that for me?" you ask, voice filled with wanton desire. 

Trevor pants but nods, pupils dilated as he watches you hop off the bed and begin to shed your clothes. You poke your head into the living room, the deep snores emanating from within hopefully signalling Michael was asleep. Not that you cared either way. Truthfully it was more for his own sake as you ruthlessly teased and fucked his best friend in the other room. Naked, you climb over Trevor as he releases his hold on his dick, slicking his throbbing length with your nectar. Your core is burning, coiled tight and begging for sweet release. Positioning yourself above him, you sheath Trevor's cock inside the warm clutches of your cunt, hands pressing bruises into his body. You almost can't take it and have to pause to compose yourself. Sensing your control slipping, Trevor tangles his arms around your back and bucks up into you, forcing a breathless gasp to tumble from your lips. He swallows it as he invades your mouth, the taste of him causing an involuntary squeeze from your walls, threatening to push him out. Rutting into you, he seeks to bury himself in the sanctity of your depths, hands almost crushing against your limbs as he holds you in place. It would seem that the good boy act was over. He had done so well lasting this long that you didn't mind, but it was like a switch had flipped and there was no bringing him back.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good you'll be begging for my cum in no time sugartits," he growled, emphasising his words by twitching his cock within you. 

The roles had reversed and you were done for. He had you exactly where he wanted you, speared on his dick, pulling your wrists roughly down beside his thighs so you couldn't move. You attempted to sit up, to slide up his length, but he rammed deeper into you, using his hold on your arms against you. 

"I'm all for being teased baby girl, but it's only fair that I get to return the favour," Trevor purrs, "Especially after your humiliating me in front of Mikey made me so fucking hard."

He thrusts into you again, feeling you squirm, trying to goad you into crying out. 

"I like it when you struggle cupcake," Trevor growls as you whimper, "What did you expect? Just fucking look at me - you said it yourself - I'm a sick fuck baby."

Eyes feral and full of lust, he emphasises his words with another push of his thick cock deep into your cunt, your juices leaking out and onto the both of you. You attempt to tear your hands from his grip but it's no use. He's biting and licking at your throat, a bit more forceful than you're used to but it hurts so good. Tears begin to prickle the corners of your eyes and you bite your lip to halt the desperate whimpering you can hear yourself making. Rolling your hips forward, you try to ride him the best you can with limited mobility and he laps it all up - greedily eyeing the way you're using him to get yourself off. 

"Look at you trying to milk me," Trevor snarls, "I guess slutty looks good on both of us baby".

His depraved taunting is bringing you closer to your edge. Craning his neck, he takes one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks hard, flicking his tongue against the barbell, switching across to give the same treatment to the other. Now it was your turn to crumble. You begin to ride him harder, trying to get his head to rub against your g-spot as you moan under your breath.

"What's that cupcake? Speak up". 

"Trevor please, I want to feel you cum so bad," you plead.

"Told you I'd make you beg for my cum, (y/n)," he teases, "Cum on my dick and I'll fill you right up baby doll."

With that he releases his hold on your wrists, finally allowing you to rub at your little pearl, the final threads of you coming undone. You feel the waves inside crashing down, cunt wrapped exquisitely around his dick and squeezing tightly, your wetness seeping out as you struggle to breathe. Bracing yourself on his shoulders, you hang your head and ride out the last of it, shifting backwards and forwards, as Trevor grips onto your buttocks. He thrusts into you with force and it threatens to overwhelm you. Shuddering, you moan his name, feeling your core heating rapidly. 

"Don't stop Trev," you pant.

He's spurred on by your encouragement and you can tell by the way he savagely bites into your shoulder that he's almost there. You grip the hair at the back of his head and tug, wrapping the other hand around him to fuck against him even harder. Grunts and growls are the only noises he's capable of making right now, as he nears the end. With one last stab of his cock, he spills his seed within the heat of your cunt. You both swear as your second orgasm tears through you, bleeding Trevor dry of everything he has. Leaning against him, you hold each other as you wait for the room to stop spinning. Then you hear a cough from the other room.

"You guys finishing nailing the fuck out of each other yet so I can go back to sleep?" Michael grumbles. 

"Yeah we're done Pork Chop, nighty night buddy!" Trevor grins.

A loud grumpy sigh and a noise that can only be assumed is Michael's body hitting the sofa sounds through the dimness of the trailer. Trevor lifts you off him and lays you down beside him. Summoning the last of his strength he reaches over the side of the bed, before a sock is launched at your face to clean yourself up. Sorted and both ready for sleep, Trevor protectively wraps himself around your body and inhales your scent, nose tickling just behind your ear. 

"Night babe. You did good holding out that long you know," you praise him.

"Yeah I just couldn't do it any longer than that sugar, it felt like my balls were gonna explode," he mumbles into your neck. 

You wriggle your body against his and hum, sleep descending on the two of you. You vaguely recall hearing him mutter something else just before you drift off, but you're not sure if you dreamt it.

"I love you (y/n)..."

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to dump my feelings regarding Trevor Philips so that I can continue to pretend I'm a normal human being irl.
> 
> Any feedback is much appreciated. Is an ongoing work :)


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